To Fight
by Nerweniel
Summary: 1945. The last battle against Grindelwald draws nearer. A tale about Albus, but also of Minerva, a girl who wanted to fight in a man's world.
1. Decision

A soft knock on his door made Albus Dumbledore look up from the suitcase he was packing.   
  
"Come in." he said, a pair of yellow-blue striped socks in his hand.  
  
A moment later, a tall, dark-haired girl came in, carefully closing the door behind her back.  
  
As she turned around again to speak to her teacher, her smile froze on her face.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Albus smiled, but there was a bit of sadness in her ever-twinkling eyes.  
  
"Hello, Minerva."   
  
"What," She bit her lips, not knowing whether she really wanted to know. "what are you doing, Professor- if it is permitted to ask."  
  
Albus sighed as he sat down, and made a vague gesture towards a large chair on the other side of the room.  
  
"Sit down, Minerva."  
  
She did as he'd asked, but the mass of questions readable in her beautiful, blue eyes hurt him. He'd known it was coming. He'd known it was inevitable. He could not keep this hidden from his beloved students. And certainly not from this girl- Minerva McGonagall, a seventh-year, his star pupil.   
  
She was still gazing at him, and he saw her lips slowly form words.  
  
"What is wrong, Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
He inhaled- and exhaled again.   
  
Then- with a sudden twitch of his ever-present humor, he chuckled  
  
"You know what is wrong, Minerva. You would better ask what isn't wrong. That would certainly make a shorter list."  
  
Immediately, he knew he'd made a mistake. This was not any ordinary student- she had never been one and she would certainly never become one. She knew, as did he, that this wasn't a time for joking. Her eyes almost literally spat fire.  
  
"Don't joke with me, Professor!" she snapped, silently wondering where she got the courage to speak to her teacher in such a tone. Yet, she continued.  
  
"I am not a child. I sometimes wish I was one- a child, like most of those fellow students of mine. It would make things easier for me, believe me."  
  
He bit his lip and lowered his eyes.  
  
"I know, Minerva, I am sorry."  
  
"Why are you leaving?"   
  
"Grindelwald." he finally answered flatly.  
  
He saw her eyelashes tremble slightly at the sound of what probably was the most feared name of all times. Yet, she showed no other signs of surprise. Nerves of steel.   
  
"Oh." she then said simply.  
  
He nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, Grindelwald. The final battle approaches, Minerva. He has been terrorizing the wizarding world for almost six years now. The final battle approaches, and someone will have to fight it."  
  
"And will that have to be you?" she asked calmly, raising her eyebrows in that very typical way of hers.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why?"   
  
Her question came out quickly, still very calm, but with an undercurrent of her obvious doubt.  
  
He swallowed very slowly, catching her eyes with his glare.   
  
"Because," he then explained softly. "I am the only person who possibly can do it."  
  
With a slow gesture of her hand, she stopped him, a faint smile playing on her lips.  
  
"I know that, Professor. But why now?'  
  
"Because the Headmaster has only now given me permission to leave the school, and…"  
  
He did not finish his sentence. A fiery blush had appeared on his student's cheeks. She brusquely stood up- and fell down on the chair again. With clear trouble, she stammered  
  
"What? But Professor… that is criminal! Headmaster Dippet… does he know… why… Six bloody years of killing, massacre, torture have passed! And only now… The Headmaster…"  
  
"…is an old man, Minerva. Armando Dippet isn't the strong, great wizard he once was. He is frightened. I have tried to persuade him for years. He didn't give in. But, Minerva, I want you to remember that everything he's done… He did it for Hogwarts, Minerva, for this wonderful place which we both love."  
  
He looked at his pupil. The red blushes had disappeared a bit, but it was very obvious that Minerva McGonagall didn't, and could never, agree with her Headmaster's choices. She was a Gryffindor, after all, and the courage that ran through her veins was not easily ignorable.  
  
Yet, she sighed.  
  
"Yes, I guess I can understand the Headmaster's reasoning. Yet..."  
  
She shook her head, and then looked straight into her teacher's light blue eyes.  
  
"Grindelwald has murdered my father, Professor. I'll never ever forget that. Grindelwald has murdered my father and thus broken my mother's heart."  
  
"I know that, Minerva."   
  
He took her shaking hand and softly squeezed it.  
  
"That is one of the main reasons I have decided to part as quickly as possible. I don't want any more lives to be destroyed just because I- or the Headmaster- lingered too long."  
  
Minerva looked at him.  
  
"The final battle will cost lives as well, Professor." she then stated silently.  
  
He sighed.   
  
"I know that, my dear. Too many young boys have sacrificed their lives for this cause. Too many powerful young wizards have died. But I am going now- and I am going to fight the ultimate battle. If Grindelwald defeats me, then it's over. Our armies have weakened…"  
  
He did not want to show her how frightened he really was, but she felt it and spoke  
  
"Grindelwald will not defeat you."  
  
Albus smiled faintly but shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"He is very powerful, Minerva, and I have to admit there is not much hope left. But one thing is known for sure- I am prepared to die for this. I don't expect to return unless victorious."  
  
He bit his lips and looked at his student. Her jade green eyes were dark with fear, but she managed to keep her face motionless. Then, in a sudden gesture of support, she laid her hand on his.  
  
As he smiled, she slowly continued, more to herself than to her teacher  
  
"I wished I could…"  
  
And then the great, dangerous idea leapt into her mind…   
  
Minerva McGonagall had always been a somewhat dangerous girl, the combination of her Scottish stubbornness and her great intelligence often proved to be a rather- extraordinary combination.  
  
"But," she quickly interrupted herself. "when are you actually leaving, Professor?"  
  
Albus sighed again. If he had to be perfectly honest with himself, he had to admit he didn't want to leave. Yet, he knew he had to.  
  
"Tomorrow evening, Minerva. I am leaving tomorrow evening."  
  
Minerva nodded and bit her lips. Then, immediately, she said  
  
"I am going with you."  
  
The determined look in her eyes was unmistakable.  
  
Albus startled.  
  
"No, you are not!"   
  
He shook his head.   
  
"You certainly aren't. Of course not, this is ridiculous."  
  
Her jade eyes caught his gaze. He saw he'd hurt her.  
  
"Is it really ridiculous, Albus? Is it ridiculous that I, seventeen years old, want to fight for those I love?"  
  
Albus sighed.  
  
"No, it is not, Minerva, but you have to understand it. You are way too young to-"  
  
"Boys of my age have already given their lives for…"  
  
"Boys, Minerva, you are a girl."  
  
The blood flushed to her cheeks.  
  
"What does that mean, Professor? Am I… do you think we girls cannot fight? Do you think…"  
  
She was trembling heavily now, and she rested her hand on her chest- to calm herself, probably.  
  
Albus raised a hand.  
  
"I don't think such things, Minerva. I think girls are more vulnerable…"  
  
"More vulnerable? I don't believe what I am hearing. You, Professor, you, who…"  
  
She was almost crying now- no war, no sadness could make her cry, but this anger, frustration, could easily do so. As a tear rolled down her cheek, her eyebrows still arched in fury, he took her hand again.   
  
"No, Minerva, I don't think girls are inferior in any way to boys. But they are more vulnerable, whether you like it or not, and you are so young. I don't want you to get hurt."  
  
"I want to go."  
  
Albus raised his eyebrows and stood up.  
  
"You are a stubborn one, Minerva, but you are not, by any means *not*, going with me."  
  
Minerva stood up as well, still tears in her eyes, but a determined look on her face.  
  
"Then we are finished talking. Goodbye, Professor."  
  
Albus nodded shortly and turned around.  
  
Minerva nodded as well, took her dark green cloak and started to leave.  
  
"Minerva…"  
  
She turned around again. Albus laid his hand on her arm.   
  
"Don't be angry with me. If I am going to die, then please think good of me. I have always liked you, my star pupil."  
  
He chuckled softly, but Minerva recognized it as what it really was- a disguised sob.  
  
Suddenly, she took her teacher's hands.  
  
With a somewhat broken voice, she then muttered  
  
"I will always think good of you, Professor. Goodbye."  
  
Albus slowly nodded as his beloved pupil finally left.  
  
"Farewell, Minerva."   
  
But what Albus didn't see, was the look on her face as she entered the Gryffindor Common Room again.  
  
Determination. Stubbornness. Certainty.  
  
And that ever-present witty intelligence.  
  
No way Minerva McGonagall would ever give up this easily. 


	2. Duty

As Minerva sat down on her usual chair in the Common Room, she felt slightly weird. She felt as if something very important had just changed- as if she had changed. Yet, as far as she knew, she still was the same Minerva McGonagall- the same beautiful, pale face, the same flowing dark hairs, held back in their usual braid, the same spectacled eyes, the usual long, dark green robes. Yet, something really had changed, she realized, and it wasn't about her outside. It was something totally different- something deep, very deep inside her. There was a certainty… her usual stubbornness, but something more. The little talk she'd had with her teacher had changed everything, she realized, and it had changed her as well. She could… As Minerva had sunk back into thoughts, she didn't notice it when a thin girl fell down in the chair next to hers.  
  
"Minerva?"  
  
Minerva startled and looked op, finding herself staring in the rather unique, yellowy eyes of her best friend.  
  
"Rolanda," she then muttered, accusingly. "you startled the hell out of me!"  
  
The other girl grinned, but clearly had to oppress a yawn.  
  
"Oh, did I?"   
  
She yawned again.  
  
"Maybe, I did, but you…" It was now her turn to give the other girl a rather accusing glare.  
  
"You missed Quidditch training, young lady! You'd better have an acceptable excuse, missy!"  
  
Rolanda, who was the Captain of the Gryffindor team, grinned again, but Minerva didn't answer her smile.  
  
"Actually," she then said, in a more soft voice than her usual. "I have one."   
  
She stared at her entwined hands, not knowing whether to explain it or not.  
  
Rolanda looked awkwardly at her strange-behaving friend. Minerva was dead serious, she realized that, but she absolutely hadn't got a clue. Especially not when she read a bit of… nervousness in her friend's eyes. But Minerva- nervous? Minerva McGonagall, the well-known Ice Queen, who always stayed dead calm, even with the most terrible kinds of exams coming up? Well…except when her fiery, Scottish temper attacked again… then… But this wasn't one of the usual fits of anger. Rolanda knew them only too well, and this wasn't one. Min wasn't angry. She was… was she frightened? But a frightened Minerva was almost as unreal as a nervous Minerva.  
  
Suddenly, in an impulsive gesture, Rolanda laid a hand on her friend's shoulder.  
  
"What," she then asked seriously. "is the bloody matter, Minerva?"  
  
Minerva looked into her friend's eyes and then stared back at her hands again.  
  
"Nothing." she then lied. She wasn't good at lying. Never had been as well.  
  
Rolanda chuckled softly.  
  
"Minerva, you are a terribly bad liar and you know it. What is wrong?"  
  
As Minerva sighed deeply and looked into her friend eyes again, she nodded and finally took a decision.  
  
"Okay. I'll tell you, Ro. In fact, I'm going to need your help. Your experience with breaking the school rules will come in… quite handy."  
  
Rolanda laughed, somewhat relieved.  
  
"Oh?" she grinned. "Is it that? Does our beloved Head Girl wants to go out of line a bit? Min, you…"  
  
Minerva blushed and raised her hand. The stern expression in her eyes made her friend shut up immediately. Minerva really had some sort of authority.  
  
"No, Ro," she muttered. "no Ro, this isn't as simple as just that. It is not just plain mischief I am up to. In fact, it's way more serious. I'll have to break dozens of rules and will probably be in *very* serious trouble when the teachers find out."  
  
With this, she shut up and started staring at her own hands again.   
  
Rolanda rolled her eyes, but she sounded serious as she said  
  
"Min, just tell me. I promise that I will let you use all the mischievous experience I possess. But listen… if the risk is really that big…are you sure it is worth taking? I mean…" she added, as Miinerva's eyes glinted dangerously. "you are Head Girl and… Well, you know."  
  
"Rolanda Hooch!" Minerva burst out. "Are you, the Queen of Mischief, really telling me…"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"I don't believe you!"  
  
"Well…"  
  
But Minerva interrupted her friend again.  
  
"And yes, the risk is worth taking. It really is. In fact, I have no choice. It is more of a duty I have to fulfill. I once have sworn an oath."  
  
Rolanda frowned.  
  
"An oath? When?"  
  
Minerva sighed.  
  
"Above the dead body of my father."  
  
She swallowed softly.  
  
"I have sworn an oath, Ro, and I don't care anymore about my Head Girl duties or anything else. Even if they punish me- I only have one duty left, Rolanda and I'll fulfill it."  
  
Her friend nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"Yes. Good. Okay. Alright. But Minerva!"   
  
She almost yelled the last word.  
  
"Are you now finally going to tell me what this about?"  
  
Minerva smiled sadly, and then finally began.  
  
"Well…" 


	3. Friendship

"So I am really going to need you." Minerva finished her story. With a smile, she added  
  
"And Ro, close your mouth before you swallow a fly."   
  
But Rolanda's mouth stayed wide open, and her eyes grew bigger and bigger as she finally burst out  
  
"MinervaMcGonagallyouarethemostamazingandtotally…"  
  
"Ho!" Minerva raised her hand.  
  
"Ho, Ro… hey, that rhymed… oh, whatever… now just calm down, Ro, and talk slooowly… very slooowly…"  
  
Rolanda grinned, but frowned with semi-indignation.   
  
"Hear, hear! You have just shocked me to death, do you realize that? I could have died of a heart attack!"  
  
"I don't think so, Ro." Minerva answered dryly.  
  
"Whatever. What I wanted to say, Minerva- you, you, who have always preached following-the-rules and listening-to-your-teachers… you are the most amazing and totally MAD person I have ever met! You are MAD, MAD, MAD!"  
  
Minerva raised her eyebrows in her very typical way.  
  
"Mad, I? Who of us is hysterically yelling at the moment? But Ro, I realize this is really not anything I have done before, I agree. And I wouldn't do it, if it wasn't for…"  
  
"Yes, for what?" Rolanda asked. "For what, Min?"  
  
"For an oath I have sworn, I have just told you! And even if you don't help me- I'll do it anyway, so…"  
  
Rolanda raised her arms in despair.  
  
"My my, poor me. How have I deserved this new example of that freaking Scottish stubbornness of yours?"  
  
Yet, she smiled and then nodded seriously.  
  
"But I understand, Min."  
  
"So you'll help me?" Minerva's eyes were big and pleading.  
  
Rolanda nodded with an acknowledging smile.  
  
"I'll help you."  
  
Minerva smiled and pulled her friend closer in a loving hug.  
  
"Thank you, Rolanda. I'll never ever forget this…"  
  
Rolanda grinned as she gently patted her friend's back.  
  
"Of course you won't, Min. I'll never let you. But, after all, what risk do I take? Some detention- a preach from the Headmaster… well, been there, done that. What's wrong with some good old mischief?"  
  
Minerva smiled as well.  
  
"Nothing, Ro. Nothing."  
  
Rolanda Hooch stared at the other girl, then raised hands laughed.  
  
"Oh, the Gods be praised! Minerva McGonagall, the Goddess of Seriousness and Wisdom has finally surrendered to…"  
  
"To Rolanda, Holy Goddess of Plain but Funny Mischief… " Minerva completed, and then, with a faint smile, hugged her friend again.   
  
"Thanks Ro…" Her voice sounded softer than usual. "You are wonderful…"  
  
Rolanda smiled and shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"And you are brave, Minerva. I know for sure I would never be able to do a thing like this. I'll never be as brave and as great a person as you are, Minerva."  
  
Minerva shook her head.  
  
"You already are." 


	4. Escape

So the day after, in the evening, a loud bang was heard in the corridors of Gryffindor Castle. "A few" dung bombs had suddenly all exploded. An accident? Perhaps… but a certain, silver-haired girl with yellowy eyes had certainly got something to do with it…  
  
Rolanda Hooch's Invisibility Cloak had again proven itself indispensable.  
  
For on that very moment, another certain girl with long, wavy, ebony hairs had, outside the castle, mounted her broom. And as she flew through the air, she kept her eyes fixed on one, little spot, moving across the sky…  
  
Minerva McGonagall followed Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Her goodbye letter was lying neatly written on her bedside table, where her roommates, among whom was Rolanda, would find it later on. But then it would be too late.  
  
"To Headmaster Dippet" was written on the envelope, and inside of it was a parchment that said  
  
"Dear Headmaster Dippet,  
  
I am gone. I have taken my broom to follow Professor Dumbledore to Germany, to the battle against Grindelwald.   
  
The Dark Lord has murdered my father, Professor, and I have sworn an oath.   
  
I want to fight. I want to be there, when we defeat him or he defeats us. I know I'll probably die, but I will have at least tried to save the world… I cannot stay behind now, Professor, not now and not anymore. I can, of course, not expect you to understand this, but please try.   
  
I realize you are most probably very disappointed in me. I know this action of mine is irresponsible and dangerous. But not stupid, Professor, and not rashly taken. You must believe me when I tell you this: I have thought about this very seriously and I do take full responsibility for this.   
  
Professor Dumbledore nor my friends know anything of this. I have taken this decision on my own. I want to say I am sorry, but in a way, I am not because I know there was nothing else I could do. And if I die, then remember me as a girl who wanted to fight, Professor. If I return, then punish me, yell at me, do whatever is necessary, but if I die, then please think good of me.  
  
Goodbye,  
  
Minerva Katherine McGonagall."  
  
It was a quite short, clear letter, and it explained very well how she felt. She felt as i she had to be sorry, but she wasn't. She had perhaps betrayed everyone, but she had been true to the person whom mattered the most to her. Her dad.  
  
She had followed her Gryffindor heart, and how could such a thing ever be wrong?  
  
Yet Minerva realized she had to be careful, especially the first 24 hours. The first day was crucial… If Professor Dumbledore caught her now, everything would be lost.  
  
But the night was long and he couldn't possible notice her in the dark… she was flying far behind him and as quietly and close to the earth as she could. And she was a good flyer. Her Seeker skills proved to come in quite handy…  
  
Yet, the sunrise came way too early for Minerva and with it came the light- the light that could give her away very easily.   
  
Yet, she gritted her teeth and kept on flying. God was with her, she knew, remembering the word her very religious mother had spoken so many times.  
  
God was with her.  
  
And her father was. 


	5. Caught

Albus sighed as the sun started to set. He had been flying all day and even though he didn't want to admit it- he wasn't twenty anymore, and his muscles started to object. Perhaps it was time for a little rest… Perhaps even the "Great Albus Dumbledore" had to take a break.  
  
He sighed again and maneuvered his broom towards the ground. A forest. The perfect spot to… But as his feet touched the grass, he quickly turned around. Had he heard something in the bushes? He couldn't explain it, but he'd had the feeling he had been followed all day…   
  
Imagination, of course, he thought. He was becoming a paranoid old man. Yet…  
  
With a short shiver, he started to unpack his broom. A slight movement of his broom, and there his shelter for the night was: a small, green tent. It was probably not very comfortable, but it was well enough for him and it was important not to be noticed before he had at least reached the borders of Germany. Even though he was still in England- Grindelwald had his spies everywhere…  
  
And then, he heard another noise- and as quietly as possible, he sneaked towards the bushes.  
  
~*~  
  
Minerva sighed in relief. Phew- that had been a close one. She thought he'd heard her for a moment. Stupid, dry twig she'd stepped on. But everything was okay now, wasn't it? Until her booted foot hit another branch. The blood rushed to her cheeks. Had Dumbledore heard her? But hey… where was Dumbledore?  
  
She knew the answer when a very familiar-sounding voice yelled   
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
And her body stiffened.   
  
Albus Dumbledore came running towards her- and his jaw dropped. With a quick gesture of his wand, he released her. She shivered and looked at him, a guilty look in her green eyes.  
  
"Minerva?" he spoke, too shocked to sound angry. But the angriness came- and it came very quickly.  
  
"Minerva, what are you doing here? Or, wait, I get it!"  
  
Minerva wanted to interrupt him, but he raised his hand and she closed her mouth again. She had, somehow, deserved this.   
  
"Stubborn Miss McGonagall couldn't accept being left behind and decided to play the heroine, didn't she? Minerva, this is the most irresponsible thing I have ever witnessed! You should be expelled right away! This is the most immature…"  
  
"No!" the girl exclaimed, and in a calm voice continued  
  
"Not immature, Professor. I take full responsibility, and-"  
  
"Oh shut up!" Albus snapped angrily. "And stop it! Do you know what this means? Now we'll have to go back, and we can't! I have already been delayed, and I cannot risk… You should actually be expelled, Miss McGonagall, and please, spare me the responsibility-talk! Because what will your mother…"  
  
"Nothing," Minerva responded flatly. "She doesn't care anymore, since Grindelwald murdered my father…"   
  
She bit her lips, yet a lonely tear escaped from her eyes. Albus saw it and almost felt pity. Almost.  
  
"I know how you feel, Minerva…" he continued in a softer tone. "But…"  
  
"No, you don't!' the girl interrupted him. "No, you *don't* know how it feels when you are thirteen years old and your so admired father is killed in a horrible way! You don't know how it feels when you, barely more than a child, have to go up to the Ministry to "identify" his terribly, terribly wounded body, because your mom's in a coma and you don't know whether she's ever going to wake up again!"  
  
Albus felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Horrible- absolutely horrible… A child of thirteen?  
  
"Minerva…" he stammered. "is this true?"  
  
She nodded vehemently.  
  
"Yes. I have never been the- same again…"  
  
Her voice broke.   
  
With an oppressed sob, she succumbed on the grass and hid her face in her hands. Her body shook heavily, yet she managed to control herself. Years of carefully built up self-control weren't wiped away easily…  
  
She looked up again at her Professor.  
  
"And therefore, Professor, to revenge him, I have followed you. Therefore I want to fight. I am perhaps a girl, but I am the only child of my father and if I don't fight for him, then no-one will."  
  
Albus sighed and sat down as well.  
  
"Yes," he spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words.  
  
"I understand now why you've tried this, Minerva, yet I don't approve it. You don't have to fight, that's the task of others…"  
  
"Of men." the girl answered bitterly.  
  
Albus sternly nodded.  
  
"Of men. I am sorry to say this, but…"  
  
"I am not going back!"  
  
Clenching his teeth in renewed angriness, Albus stood up.   
  
"Oh yes you are, Minerva McGonagall. Tomorrow, we are going to…"  
  
Yet, on that very moment, as if sent by the hand of God, an owl descended from the darkening sky. It carried a letter, which Albus opened immediately.  
  
"Dear Albus..." he read out loud, then swore   
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
The letter came from his employer, Headmaster Dippet… Grindelwald's followers had, again, attacked Muggles. Thirteen Belgian peasants had been killed. The Dark Wizard himself, though, still dwelt in Germany. Preparing for his final victory?  
  
Now Albus knew he couldn't return. He could not lose one day. He had to go on, now… The travel would take long enough without delays. But that meant…  
  
"And?" Minerva had the guts to ask.  
  
Angrily, the man shrugged his shoulders, handed her the letter and walked away towards his tent.   
  
As Minerva read the piece of parchment, she could hardly oppress a smile. She, too, knew what this meant. She had to stay with him. Till death did them part...  
  
With a slight, happy sigh, she stood up, walked towards him and asked matter-of-factly  
  
"And now?"  
  
The man looked up and sternly stared at her.  
  
"And now you are staying, you damn stubborn Scotswoman. I suggest you sleep in my tent and I sleep outside. Two tents will arouse suspicions…" With this, he turned away from her and grunted something between his teeth.  
  
But as the first drops of rain fell on their heads, Minerva shook her head.  
  
"Oh no, you damn idiotic Englishman! We are both sleeping in that- thing, there! And since we will be together for a very long time, you'd better forgive me and get used to me!"  
  
She didn't know where she got the courage to say this.  
  
Albus shook his head in slight shock.  
  
"Oh no- we cannot sleep together in one tent… imagine what people would say…"  
  
Minerva raised her eyebrows and pointedly looked around.   
  
"People? What people? And unless you plan on "trying something", tonight, I don't mind sharing a tent with you… So are you?"  
  
Albus blushed and looked slightly shocked.  
  
"Of course I am not, Minerva, don't act stupid!" he responded stiffly.   
  
"Very well, then!" the girl settled the matter, oppressing a victorious smile.  
  
She was her father's daughter and she would fight! 


	6. Sleeping And Waking Up Again

So less than an hour later, Minerva was already lying in the small tent.  
  
Sharing a tent with your teacher, she ironically thought. How romantic.  
  
Not.  
  
She bit her lips in frustration as she pressed her pillow closer to her ears.  
  
The man snored.  
  
The bloody man snored.  
  
And how.  
  
A chain saw cutting down a wood of ancient oaks.   
  
No, worse. Way, way worse.  
  
But she would not complain. Never. After all, this had been her choice, and if she already complained because of her teacher's snoring, what would she then do when they really were in the fight?  
  
A certain feeling of coldness covered her heart as she felt her last words echo through her mind. A fight. A fight. It was ridiculous, of course, she scolded herself. She had known all the time they were heading for a fight. A battle. A battle, where people would be killed and where she'd have to prove herself, to prove that she really was something else than a seventeen year old, giggly, thoroughly silly and utterly stubborn girl. But was she?  
  
She sighed, yet with a suddenly proud gesture straightened her back and nodded.   
  
Yes she was. She was something else and she would prove it as well. For her father's sake.  
  
And for her sake as well.  
  
And, as if to acknowledge her silent statement, the chain saw snoring all of a sudden stopped, as Minerva McGonagall gratefully closed her eyes once more and nuzzled into the carefully folded up cloak which she used as a pillow.  
  
And she drifted off to sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes as the first ray of sunlight peered through the leaves. With a soft yawn, he wanted to sit up, but just in time remembered the person next to him.  
  
He groaned as he fell down again on his improvised mattress.   
  
Minerva, oh, Minerva, why couldn't you just stay safely at Hogwarts? Everything would be fine if she'd just controlled that infamous stubbornness of hers and stayed at safe old Hogwarts. Then, he would have written her, many letters, and she would have written him back, yes, but at least he would have known that she was safe. Now…  
  
Now she was with him, and though that thought was not unpleasant to him- she was very dear to him, and had always been- he felt worried. Did she understand the seriousness of all this? Did she understand that this fight was not going to be the heroic kind about which you could read in books, but a real war and a critical one on top of it?  
  
Did she understand all that?   
  
Could a girl of seventeen ever understand all that?  
  
Time would tell.   
  
Only time could tell.  
  
Yet, despite himself, he smiled as she turned on her other side and he could see her face. She was one of the few girls who combined inner beauty with physical beauty, who combined beauty with brains. He'd always thought she was beautiful, though her nose perhaps was a wee bit hooked, and though perhaps her eyes were a bit too big for her delicate, Scottish features. But her thin, reddish lips, now slightly parted in the casualness of sleep, and the deep dark blue color of her eyes, surrounded by the dark waves of black, thick hair, had always been a pleasure for Albus' eyes to meet. As well as her ever-witty, ever-critical brain had always been a pleasure for him to teach.  
  
He had always liked her, and, though he really had been angry, he felt he could not stay mad at her.   
  
But he had to.  
  
It was his duty, as her teacher, and even though what had happened to her father was horrible, she still shouldn't have done this.  
  
So, with a somewhat brusque gesture, he took her shoulder and shook it.   
  
He felt bad because of it- she had looked so peaceful- but it was his duty… wasn't it?  
  
"Minerva? Come on, Minerva, up you go! You wanted to follow me, you're going to do as I do!"  
  
As she did not move, he frowned and punched her shoulder once more and briskly spoke  
  
"Up, Minerva!" 


	7. Perseverance

And they traveled- days and days. They hardly met any other people, as they slept deep in the woods by day and flew by night. It was a lonely journey- and not only because of that.   
  
Because Albus was still angry with Minerva- or at least, he kept the appearance of angriness. And because Minerva still was convinced of her right and his wrong, her pride kept her from apologizing. So they were and they stayed, though together, two people, together but alone.  
  
They slept under the same improvised "roof", they ate from the same plate, as they slept, they were even covered by the same blanket, and yet, a strange distance had come between them.  
  
A distance they had never witnessed before.  
  
They had always liked each other, Professor Dumbledore and young Miss McGonagall, they had liked each other since the day she, that rather small, frail-looking First Year with the two raven black plaits, had entered his classroom on that blissful September day, now seven years ago. Soon, she had proven to be a Transfigurations genius, and her interested questions and sometimes critical remarks had often amused him- and always, she herself had fascinated him.   
  
He had witnessed her grow. She had grown taller, and over all those years, her two, long braids had transformed into one. Her pale, delicate face had lost the child and gained the young woman in it. She had grown more intelligent and more beautiful every single day, and they had grown to like each other better every single class.  
  
And now, it all was over.  
  
Because of her stubbornness, Minerva recalled, but also because of his stubbornness. She really saw no reason for his pointless wrath.  
  
How could she have known that Albus himself did not see the reason as well?  
  
Because he really didn't. As he flew there, on his broomstick, only separated from Minerva by a few inches' thin air, he really didn't now why he felt as if there was a massive stone wall between them. He really didn't know why he suddenly couldn't speak to her anymore the way he'd always spoken to her. He really didn't know why it suddenly was so- impossible to get along with Minerva McGonagall, formerly known as His Favorite Pupil.  
  
He didn't know.  
  
But perhaps there was a point nonetheless to these pointless feelings, for exactly those feelings had provoked the awkward silences between them, the silences which, one night, caused him to say  
  
"You know, Minerva, it is a pity you are to young to be an Animagus."  
  
She, sitting on her broom, her long plait fluttering behind her back, raised her eyebrows and asked  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because that might be a useful ability- considering where we are going."  
  
Minerva, who had meant something else, allowed herself a faint smile and shook her head.  
  
"No. I meant- why am I too young?"  
  
Albus chuckled softly, despite himself and his strange determinedness to keep a distance from her.  
  
"Because Animagus-training is- it's a really advanced Transfiguration, Minerva. Of course you are talented, but the youngest Animagus I've ever heard of was twenty-six years old."  
  
She shook her head and quietly smiled.  
  
"Still remains the question- why can't I try? I have read about Animagi a lot, Professor, and I know it's difficult. But if that person could do it when he was twenty-six, why can't I try to do it seven years earlier?"  
  
Albus was glad he wore a beard, because he knew he couldn't keep a fond smile off his lips now.  
  
"You really don't think anything is impossible, do you, Miss McGonagall? But it is alright- I know the needed spells. The spells are not really hard to perform, you know. It's the will-power that's the problem with most people. Perseverance- that's what you need."  
  
But Minerva answered, quickly, wittily.  
  
"As you very well know, Professor." she commented dryly.  
  
"Perseverance is not really my biggest problem."  
  
And Albus Dumbledore quickly turned his head away from her to hide an even broader smile. And for some reason, three words leapt into his mind.  
  
"That's my girl."  
  
He didn't speak them, though, but Minerva noted his grin and smiled herself.  
  
Perhaps it wasn't all over yet. 


	8. Here With Me

"Come on, Minerva, concentrate!"  
  
The girl vehemently nodded as she gritted her teeth.  
  
"Concentrate!"  
  
But it was no use. Minerva McGonagall opened her eyes and shook her head, panting as if she'd run a very long distance. She felt like it as well.  
  
With a tired sigh, she turned towards her mentor, then sat down on the grass and crossed her legs. She lowered her eyes as she muttered  
  
"I can't."  
  
Minerva shrugged her shoulders and faintly smiled, now playing with a blade of grass. Then, she looked up, and honest green eyes met concerned blue ones.  
  
"I can't. You were right. I am too young. I am not powerful enough. I admit it. I was wrong."  
  
Albus remained silent but then- impossible! unforgivable!- lightly chuckled. Minerva felt her teper rise at an incredibly high speed. Putting her hands on her hips, she stood up and looked straight into his eyes again with a stern glare.  
  
"Now why are you laughing? Wasn't that what you wanted to hear, perhaps? Minerva-know-it-all McGonagall was wrong. Minerva-know-it-all McGonagall isn't smart enough. I am stupid, I am a silly little girl and I shouldn't have left Hogwarts in the first place! So! Are you happy now?"  
  
To her great irritation, Minerva felt tears in her eyes. She quickly raised a hand to roughly wipe them away, but- a firm hand on her arm stopped her in mid-gesture. A well-known voice now sounded strangely close to her ear.  
  
"Don't be angry with me, Minerva. And calm down. I know this stressful to you, but…"  
  
Minerva sighed as she dropped on the grass again and snapped  
  
"See? It's stressful to me. I am a little child who can hardly…"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
His voice was ever so soft, yet Minerva noted the firm undertone and obeyed.   
  
"Now calm down."  
  
Albus crouched down beside his pupil and handed her his own, clean handkerchief.  
  
"Wipe your tears away with this."  
  
She silently nodded, still quite ashamed of her useless tears.  
  
"Now, Minerva McGonagall, let me congratulate you, because the progresses you have made are really incredible."  
  
"You're lying."   
  
Her voice sounded weak, but a faint smile played on her lips. Albus raised his eyebrows and smiled as well.  
  
"I am not. You're seventeen and after three weeks of practice, you are almost capable of transforming yourself without any help!"  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Oh yes you are! You know, I can even see a kind of- shadow, sometimes. A shadow of the animal you'll become!"  
  
Minerva's head snapped up.   
  
"What will I be?" she, suddenly eagerly, asked.  
  
"I don't know." came his careful response.   
  
"Something quite small…"  
  
"Small?" Minerva muttered, somewhat disappointed. "No hope on a lioness, then?"  
  
He smiled and patted her back.  
  
"I fear not, my dear. But whatever you'll become- you'll become it quickly. One week, perhaps, or two, and then…"  
  
"We don't have two weeks left!"  
  
Albus amusedly sighed.  
  
"Not so impatient, Miss McGonagall! We are now in the east of Belgium, so indeed, in a week, we'll reach the place in Germany where our Minister's armies defend themselves against the Dark Lord's ones. But even if we're there- we can't attack right away. Plans will have to be made, negotiations will have to be attempted… And before the end, I am sure I'll have a fully-trained Animagus by my side."  
  
He comfortingly smiled, but Minerva McGonagall's stubborn, Scottish spirit wasn't soothed that easily. She stood up and balled her fists, now towering over her Professor.  
  
"And yet I have to be an Animagus now! And I will be! Let me try one more time, and…"  
  
"It's too soon, Minerva!"  
  
"It isn't."  
  
Albus Dumbledore read the ever-obstinate expression in the fiery, emerald eyes, and gave in, without any hope, in fact.  
  
"Then try. You know the trick by now, don't you? Concentrate."  
  
Minerva nodded, gritted her teeth. Three seconds later, she closed her eyes, balled her fists, bit her lips and then yelled. She yelled, yelled, yelled all despair, all sadness, all pain out of her body until…  
  
Until what had been the screams of a teenage girl, were suddenly turned into the slightly plaintive yet obviously triumphant meowing of a sleek, sliver tabby cat, who was now jauntily, with clear green eyes surrounded by very familiar stripes, looking at Albus, who felt his jaw drop.  
  
Then, with a pop, Minerva McGonagall changed back and before she could even smile or cheer, she felt two arms around her waist and was silenced by three polite kisses on both her cheeks.  
  
It was a strange feeling.  
  
It was a nice feeling.  
  
But before she could ponder more, Albus hastily released her. His well-meant and kind congratulations, though, did not nearly do to her what his spontaneous embrace had done.  
  
"Thank you, Professor." Minerva smiled, cheeks blushing as she very well knew.  
  
"Thank you, Minerva.", he responded, and when she looked up in surprise, he smiled.  
  
"For being here."  
  
"Being here?" came Minerva's dumbfounded answer.  
  
But Albus smiled, and, resting a hand on her shoulder, he spoke the words Minerva McGonagall knew she would never ever forget.  
  
"I am glad you are here with me." 


	9. Feelings

"Albus, we are so glad you are here!" greeted a tall, dark blue-clad wizard, widely opening his arms to greet the Transfigurations teacher, who obviously was an old acquaintance of his. Minerva immediately recognized him- well, of course she did. Though he had obviously lost weight, and though he had apparently aged a great deal over the past months, he still very certainly was Ethain Goodall, the Minister of Magic since six years. When he had been appointed, in 1939, he had not at all realized it would be his task to guide the Wizarding world through what probably would be the darkest period of its existence.  
  
At the sight of his good friend, Albus smiled, though he felt very tired and though even the muscles in his face hurt as he moved them. He and his pupil had been flying all day- the situation grew more urgent everyday and they really couldn't lose more time than necessary- and once more, Albus Dumbledore had to admit that, though he was not at all an old man yet, he was not a teenage boy anymore either…  
  
"Ethain! How are things over here?" he greeted. It was a standard question to ask, and too late did Albus realize it was a somewhat silly question in the present circumstances. Because how were things "over here"? The Minister did answer his question, though.  
  
"Not well, my friend, not at all well, and… "   
  
But Albus his eyes trail off to someone he hadn't noticed earlier, and the Minister quickly interrupted his useless sentence.   
  
"…but who," Ethain trailed off. "is this lovely lady you've brought with you?"   
  
Ever the gentleman, despite his worried and obviously tired state, the Minister lightly bowed above Minerva's gloved hand.   
  
Minerva smiled and nodded. She could, in fact, hardly oppress a relieved sigh. The Minister didn't know who she was… Headmaster Dippet had not taken the risk to reveal the whereabouts of the Minister and his Aurors because of her… The Minister did not know about her pursuit of Albus…She knew, of course, that her Professor would tell him immediately, but still- she was happy the Minister had at least not immediately started to reproach her for her so-called "rash" act. In fact, he didn't even seem to realize she was a student, but actually, that was no surprise. Minerva Katherine McGonagall always looked a tad older than she was- the air of determinedness and confidence around her had misled many people before Ethain Goodall. And it was true- Minerva McGonagall had indeed grown up unnaturally quick between her thirteenth and fourteenth year. It was one of the many results of her father's early death..  
  
But of course, yes, of course, Albus Dumbledore would report him everything about her case…  
  
Trying to appropriately lower her eyes, Minerva lightly sighed once more, preparing for the reprimands that would surely follow… But hadn't she deserved them? No, perhaps she hadn't, but at least she could have thought about this before leaving Hogwarts the way she had.  
  
But then, the surprise came. Albus smiled again, but another smile, a real smile, the kind of smile that, she had noticed over the last week, made his eyes twinkle and his face light up…  
  
"This," Albus took her hand and lightly squeezed it, as if to comfort her.   
  
"This, Ethain, is Miss Minerva McGonagall. If that is not a problem to you, I'd want her to be my personal assistant in the days and weeks to come. Two know more than one, obviously, and this young woman is one of the most intelligent and promising witches I have ever met."  
  
He turned his gaze towards her, and Minerva knew that hundreds, no, thousands of emotions were readable in her eyes at the same time. Relief, obviously, and gratefulness, but also… also pure joy, pure happiness and… and something else, too. Minerva felt something else, and as he spoke his next words, his cerulean, sparkling eyes looking straight into her green ones, she knew what it was.  
  
"Minerva has just become an Animagus, she still needs to register. Yes, I do believe she will be of great help to me. Though we have had our difficulties in the past, I now consider her nothing less than a good friend of mine. A very intelligent, skilled friend of mine."  
  
Oh yes, Minerva McGonagall knew exactly what emotion had stirred her heart.   
  
Because his words were nothing short of a miracle.   
  
She would not be regarded as the young idiot.   
  
She would not be labelled the unqualified outcast.  
  
She would be the personal assistant of the greatest wizard alive instead…  
  
Minerva tightened her fingers around her mentor's hand in a gesture of utter gratefulness, then, this time nothing less than gracefully, smiled as the Minister again politely bowed for her.  
  
"Delighted to meet you, Miss McGonagall. Now, I believe you perhaps would want to change and, perhaps, rest a bit?"  
  
Minerva indeed had to admit she most probably looked like a sheer madwoman after a full night and day of non-stop flying, and though her outside appearance had never been a real issue to her, she had to admit the idea of having a bit of sleep was not at all unappealing to her. She gratefully nodded.  
  
"Indeed, if that were possible…"  
  
But the Minister immediately smiled and nodded. He then made a quick gesture towards a passing, man with a slightly scarred face and dark green, camouflage robes. An Auror, obviously.  
  
"Alastor, would you be so kind as to take this lady to one of the spare tents? She's just arrived today."  
  
The scarred man, who was obviously younger than Minerva had thought him to be at first sight, nodded and beckoned her.  
  
"Follow me." he muttered in an unusually hoarse, deep voice.  
  
Minerva did follow, but her sharp ears- already benefiting from her Animagus counterpart- still heard the very first sentence the Minister spoke to Dumbledore- and grew slightly pink in answer to it.  
  
"Albus, you old fellow- you have of course totally unintentionally chosen one of the most charming young ladies I have ever seen as your personal assistant, now haven't you?  
  
It was the very first time Minerva almost heard her Transfigurations teacher blush… and she almost grinned. In fact, he had. Well, in fact, she had actually chosen him instead of he her!   
  
Yet, though the look of a totally red Albus Dumbledore trying to explain his nothing but good intentions quite amused her, Minerva managed to concentrate on the wizard before her. She half expected him to say anything, but he remained silent. So she, carefully dragging her quickly summoned broom behind her, just followed, until the young man stood still before a quite large and, to her tired eyes, extremely welcomingly looking tent. There, he turned around and looked straight into her eyes for the very first time. His eyes were a kind of blue- but not soft, lake-like Albus blue, more a kind of dark, electric blue. The one- the left eye- even more than the other… There was a kind of bitterness in his eyes, especially that left one, that she could not really understand. One thing she did understand, though. The battle this man was fighting was not an easy one.  
  
Pulling aside the canvas, allowing her to enter, the man did speak one sentence, though.  
  
"Why have you come here?" he said.  
  
"You're hardly more than a girl."  
  
With this, he turned around briskly and walked away, leaving a dumbfounded Minerva behind. Insinuations she had perhaps expected, little, hidden allusions on her age or gender, but not this. Not such a- bold remark, a warning almost. As Minerva McGonagall gratefully fell down on the small but comfortable-looking camp-bed, she realized this man, this strange being with his wondrous eye, had seen straight through her outside appearance of looking older than she was.  
  
But it was not that what bothered her the most.  
  
A girl, she was, and even if she could be called a woman, she knew that here, in many people's eyes, she would always be considered "just a woman".   
  
And Minerva McGonagall realized that there were many barriers left to conquer. 


	10. To Fight

The first thing Minerva expected to see as she, the next morning, opened her bright green eyes, was the star-filled sky. She'd grown used to awake with the moon, she'd grown to open her eyes and look straight into the eyes of the night.  
  
But as she did open her eyes and looked, she saw the dark green roof of a camouflage tent- and fresh, young sunlight peeping through the small window. It took her quite a few moments to recover- and to realize where she was, but as soon as her searching eyes found back her beloved broomstick, her lips curled into a slight, yet not entirely happy smile. She was happy to have made it, of course- to be here, to be here to defend the rights of all girls who were considered not strong enough to fight. She was proud because at least on of them, namely her, had made it.   
  
But she also was frightened. Frightened because of the future- because of the things to come, of course, frightened because of the final battle against Lord Grindelwald, but there was so much more.  
  
The prejudices she would have to face. The bitterness, already growing deep within her, she would have to battle.   
  
Herself, whom she would have to fight.   
  
Because there had arisen something- something she had not expected to arise. Something that had showed itself just the night before, as Albus- Professor Dumbledore- had taken her hand and introduced her to the Minister. The soft pressure of his fingers on the palm of her hand had told her something she did not quite understand.   
  
As she turned round on her small yet comfortable bed, she realized she truly did not understand- and it worried her. It worried her beyond words- because exactly on the moment she needed her common sense the most, it seemed to have abandoned her.   
  
Getting more lost in her own, confused thoughts with every passing moment, Minerva decided to get out of bed before she got herself entirely depressed. She slowly stretched her legs in a somewhat catlike and searched her bag for a suitable robe to wear. A somewhat ruffled, yet practical dark blue dress quite appealed to her, and less than five minutes later, she had finished both dressing and plaiting her hair in five minutes - a remarkable- so every woman will acknowledge- record indeed.  
  
But in fact she'd finished right in time, because as soon as her long, black plait- adjusted by a dark red ribbon- tumbled down her back, a soft knock on the tent cover kept her from pondering.   
  
"Minerva?"  
  
She turned around at this familiar calling of her name- quicker than even she with her sharp reflexes had ever thought possible. Albus Dumbledore faintly smiled as he extended his hands towards her.  
  
"I've not had the time yesterday," he semi-stately declared- but the twinkle in his eyes gave his joy away.  
  
"to congratulate you, Miss McGonagall, on your appointment as my personal assistant. Congratulations!"  
  
Before Minerva had time to really understand what had happened, the man before her, her Professor and companion-through-days-to-come had pulled her closer and pressed three polite, yet enthusiastic kisses on her cheeks.   
  
"Congratulations!" Albus repeated with a broad grin fixed on his auburn-bearded face, and Minerva slightly smiled. She had to oppress the urge to touch her cheeks with her fingertips- she knew very well they'd gone entirely pink-ish, and it made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.   
  
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore." she softly responded, forcing a broad smile that she did not entirely feel on her thin lips.  
  
"Really, thank you. I had not expected you to- you shouldn't have…"  
  
She started stammering and did the best thing she could do… she shut up and smiled again, a real smile this time.  
  
"Thank you." Minerva summarized, untangling her folded hands in the process- and Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling more with every word he said.  
  
"It's nothing, Minerva- after all, I will need my personal assistant in the days to come- and who else than the youngest Animagus ever heard of could be fit for that task."  
  
Minerva felt the blood creep up to her cheeks again and laughed, surprising herself.  
  
"Professor, could you stop making me blush, please?"  
  
Albus smiled and made a small, semi-courteous bow.  
  
"Ah- Minerva, I cannot but remark that blush quite flatters you, my dear."  
  
Minerva smiled and shook her head, resting a hand against her warm cheek.  
  
"You are doing it again!"  
  
Albus looked up again and smiled once more, extending his arm towards her.  
  
"Well then I'll stop right here, Minerva- are you ready to accompany me?"  
  
She nodded and grabbed his arm, but he caught her somewhat inquiring gaze and explained  
  
"Ethain has organized a small meeting about the plans for the future. He told me I didn't have to wake you for it, but I thought you'd probably want to be there…"  
  
Minerva's eyes almost shot fire as she had almost so easily been overlooked. She knew it had probably been just the Minister's kind nature- she realized she must have looked very tired the night before- but still. Somehow, somewhere she secretly thought it had been her gender that had made him "spare" her, if she could put it that way. And that she didn't like.   
  
That –despite all possible good intentions- Minerva McGonagall truly did not like.  
  
As she walked alongside Albus, her arm resting against his in a remarkably comfortable gesture, and slowly approached the small circle- meeting- that apparently was to take place before the largest tent, she noticed again what she had realized the night before- and maybe even already way earlier.  
  
She was the only woman here.  
  
And Minerva again understood what she'd understood so many times before.  
  
She knew what she would have to do.  
  
She would have to fight. 


	11. Surprise

Two weeks had passed since Albus and Minerva's arrival at the camp, and already the tidings grew darker and darker. There had been many meetings since that first one, and Minerva had attended them all, at Albus's side- but even despite her "personal assistant" status, she had felt terribly useless.  
  
It was not, she decided, that she wasn't treated with the utmost kindness and gallantry. Oh no, she was- but perhaps that exactly was the problem.  
  
They were chivalrous, they were very polite. But in a brave-knights-towards-damsel-in-distress way, and that was what bothered her. She was no damsel in distress- she was a knight here, she'd come here to fight, not to smile sweetly when one Auror or another pulled her chair back for her. Because they, especially the younger ones, really did elaborate- except, perhaps, the one she'd met the first, that one called Alastor. But the others...  
  
She didn't realize it at first- naturally she didn't, she had other things on her mind!- until Albus had, with a smile, brought it to her attention.  
  
"You're turning quite a few heads, my dear."  
  
She raised her eyebrows and, with a quick swish of her long, dark braid, turned towards him. Her dark green eyes were narrowed, and her slender, pale, ever-busy hands fell down in her lap.  
  
They were sitting in her tent- she had one of her own and he hadn't- next to each other on the only piece of furniture in the room- her bed. The closeness did not even feel uncomfortable to them- they'd spent many long afternoons there since their sudden arrival, a fortnight earlier.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
She pressed her lips closely together and crossed her arms as he chuckled.  
  
"No really, Albus, I don't get it!"  
  
Albus enjoyed every single bit of her "insulted" attitude, of her reproaching frown and, most of all, of the way she'd grown to pronounce his first name. He didn't know whether it was her Scottish lilt or just her general, sweet yet sharp pronunciation, but it made him feel... weird. Special- perhaps that was the right word.  
  
"Come on, my dear- don't say you haven't noticed the eyes of about half the camp on you!"  
  
She sighed and shook her head, turning more towards him, a faint smile on her lips.  
  
"You're just mocking me."  
  
"I certainly am not!" he assured her- his eyes were serious, Minerva noticed, and she unwillingly shook her head.  
  
"You are- I mean, why would anyone..."  
  
Albus smiled and shook his head in disbelief. Did this beautiful- no, gorgeous- girl then really not have a clue of her own attractiveness? Of course she hadn't... He had to restrain himself from rolling his sky blue eyes at the dumbfounded expression on her face.  
  
"Why? Minerva, shall I give you the reasons just like this or in alphabetical order?"  
  
Her big, green eyes now looked thoroughly shocked, and hardly producing any sound she mouthed  
  
"Alphabetical."  
  
It was such a typical McGonagall-answer that Albus could not suppress a fond grin.  
  
"You're astonishing, breathtaking, courageous, daring, elegant..."  
  
Minerva chuckled as she noticed what he was doing and lightly elbowed him.  
  
"I knew you were mocking me!"  
  
"I am not, Minerva, it's the truth. You're a beauty, and I can imagine both you and those young men over here think it quite a pity that you have to spend your days in the company of this barmy old codger."  
  
He chuckled, but his bright blue eyes had never shone so seriously, so sincerely- and all Minerva could do was stare down at her leather-clad feet. A bright red colour shone from her cheeks and it irritated her more than she could say.  
  
Until she finally gathered her well-known Gryffindor courage and looked up, deciding that the eyes of the man before her were way more interesting than her practical, black pumps.  
  
"You know that is not true."  
  
He read her serious, dark green emerald eyes, and suddenly, all he could do was whisper.  
  
"What is not true?"  
  
She impulsively bowed over to him, her eyes shining with truth from behind her glasses.  
  
"Even if I had the choice, I'd still choose you above all others."  
  
It took both of them a while to fully realize what exactly she had said- and Albus was the first to, finally, after what felt like moments but were actually minutes, hesitatingly open his mouth.  
  
"Minerva..."  
  
Her face was beet red and she bit her lips, but she didn't look away, even though she did not know why. She should be very, very ashamed now, she knew, yet in a strange way she wasn't.  
  
"Minerva, I..."  
  
But before he- or she, for that matter, because smiling and shutting up wasn't exactly characteristic Minerva traits!- could utter one more word, the door to the tent was slammed open, and...  
  
"Sir! Miss!"  
  
The young man, boy, who had just entered was breathing very quickly, and shook his head before continuing his confused sentence.  
  
"I am so sorry to bother you but- Minister Goodall- and G-G- Grindelwald is attacking!"  
  
Albus was the first one to return to the world of common sense after the strange moment he and Minerva had shared.  
  
"What? Where? Bring us to Ethain!"  
  
The young man nodded, clearly glad he didn't have to explain more, and beckoned.  
  
As he turned around and both the witch and the wizard on the bed jumped up to follow him, Albus did something which surprised both him and his Assistant.  
  
Slowly, hesitatingly yet somehow surely, he grabbed Minerva's hand. 


End file.
